


Rock & Roll

by ShotsbyShae



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Irondad, Reader-Insert, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-17 06:33:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20616566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShotsbyShae/pseuds/ShotsbyShae
Summary: You admired Tony Stark more than anyone, so it was only natural you had to take some time off after the battle, but what happens when you return a couple years later to find Rhodey's rebuilt the compound and someone strange is working in Tony's lab.Takes place post Endgame - so spoilers!





	1. Chapter 1

##  **Carry me back, baby, where I come from.**

** _2017_ **

The lab is your favorite place in the compound and watching Tony Stark work is your favorite pastime. He spends more time here now than before, the fallout with Steve had taken a toll on everyone emotionally, but you could tell it had shaken him to the core – so he worked – developing new tech, avoiding his thoughts and emotions. Drowning out the noise with his rock classics, mostly AC/DC. You’ve only been with the team a couple of years now on and off, but he’s the one you admire most – always have.

The very first mission you worked together, you took out three assailants using the technique Romanoff had taught you during training and you thought no one was around to see what you had done, but as you spun around – giant smile plastered on your face – there he stood. His facemask was up, and he looked amused at your childlike excitement over your first official take down.

“Good job kid,” he had said proudly before closing his helmet and engaging his thrusters, flying off into the literal sunset.

From that moment, you knew you’d do anything to make him proud – you lived for it.

The second-best thing to seeing him look at you with pride, is watching him in his environment. In the lab his eyes are always bright, his boyish charm in full effect, and the amused smile he gets when he accomplishes something is always larger than life, making the corners of his eyes crinkle and you love it – you love him.

The sound of someone jogging down the hall pulls your attention away from Stark and you glance to see Peter Parker slow down to a walk as he gets closer to the lab, hands grasping the straps of his backpack.

“Hey,” he smiles brightly at you, “Is Mr. Stark –”

You hold your finger up to your lips, indicating for him to be quiet, as you continue to lean against the doorframe leading into the lab. You point toward Tony working ever so frantically on a problem on the board in front of him. “He’s working,” you whisper, as Peter moves to stand beside you. 

“Think we’ll be as cool as him one day?” Peter says softly, in awe of the brilliant man in front you.

You glance over at the boy, who is barely taller than you right now, knowing he’s only a handful of years younger than you. Aside from Wanda, the two of you are the youngest members of the team, although legally you could buy a drink at the bar right now.

“Doubt it,” you respond, folding your arms across your chest as you look back toward Tony. “We can hope though_.”_

** _2025_ **

You stare out the window of the quinjet as it approaches the compound and smile thoughtfully at the familiar sight. Rhodey had rebuilt the facility just as Tony had envisioned the original, however this time it was complete with beautiful granite statues of Tony, Natasha, Steve, and Vision. You left after the funerals that day, needing time for yourself to mourn – to heal. Sam had understood, but stayed in touch, only giving you assignments when you asked for them, but it was time – time to come home – it’s what Tony would want and you can almost imagine the proud smile he would have on his face as you step off the quinjet.

But Tony isn’t there, Rhodey greets you with a warm embrace, “It’s good to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” you smile, even though your heart aches a touch.

You make your way through the facility slowly. The familiarity of it all bringing back fond memoires and warm emotions as you head down the hall. Your body knows where it’s going – instinctively – even if your mind hasn’t caught up yet.

The faint sound of Robert Plant’s voice reaches you first as you move down the corridor, his vocals growing louder the closer you get. The thought of someone in Tony’s lab angers you – that was his space – it should be off limits. Rhodey could build a separate lab for everyone else, you would speak with him about it. You reach the open door to the lab and your body freezes – heart drops. The music is loud – as it always was – drowning out the noise, but Zeppelin wasn’t his usual playlist.

_It’s not him though_, you remind yourself. God you missed it though, watching Tony’s brilliance in action was an experience in itself.

The man’s back is to you and you watch him methodically moving hologram designs around in front of him with both hands, like he’s conducting a symphony – just like Tony would do. Dark jeans sit low on his hips and the black shirt he’s wearing stretches tightly across the muscles in his shoulders and biceps as he moves. You tilt your head curiously, leaning against the doorframe as you’ve done countless times in the past – never interrupting – waiting for him to acknowledge your presence. He isn’t Tony, but from this view, he looks too damn good for you to even be angry anymore. The man places one hand on his hip as he runs his other through his messy, chestnut brown hair, nodding his head along with the beat of the song _‘Good Times Bad Times’_. You can’t help but smile as he picks up a marker, imitating a drum riff, before he spins sharply on his heel, jumping at the sight of you leaning against the doorframe.

“Shit,” he exclaims as his hand flies to his chest, eyes wide from the scare you unintentionally gave him.

Your heart skips or flutters, whatever you want to call it, as bright, chocolate eyes stare at you. You open your mouth to speak, but close it slowly unable to form words as he smiles brightly at you – a familiar boyish charm shining through – childlike wonder still evident in those eyes, but he’s not a kid anymore. His face is thinner, jaw is more defined, and all you can think is _Who is this man and what did he do with the boy?_

“Hey,” he speaks again, turning down the music with a remote once he realizes you aren’t going to say anything. “Welcome back.”

“Hi,” you finally manage, still wrapping your mind around the situation.

The two of you stare awkwardly at each other for another moment before he cocks and eyebrow, “Wanna see what I’m working on?”

You nod enthusiastically, before moving inside the lab and over to the table he’s working at. He begins explaining the _thingamajig _he’s creating and all the components and specs, as he rambles – there’s the boy you knew – he loses you as soon as he starts talking though because you’re watching him speak with such excitement and joy that all you can do is think of Tony and smile.

“What?” He sees you smirking and stops, cocking his head to the side with narrowed eyes.

You know how much you strived for it – lived for it – so you smile warmly as you lean against the table with your hip, sharing the words you know he’s always strived for just as much as you, “He’d be so proud of you Parker.”

Peter stands a little straighter and you note just how much taller he is than you now, “He’d be proud of both of us.”

“We are pretty cool,” a mischievous smile replaces the endearing one on your face.

“So cool,” Peter quips.

The two of you share a smirk as you gaze into the dark eyes that you know are going to trouble for you – serious trouble.

“I should go unpack,” you remark, before you head toward the door.

You hear the marker tapping lightly on the table behind you as Peter says, “Hey, I – um – I’m glad your back.”

“Me too.” You turn slightly, your hand on the doorframe. “Hey Parker.” You gain his attention as he reaches for some sort of metal cannister, making sure he watches as your eyes travel the length of his body. “You look good.” The words are barely out of your mouth before you disappear from the doorway and make your way down the hall.

The sound of metal and plastic clanging against the tile floor of the lab echoes through the compound as does Peter’s cursing his clumsiness, “Shit!”


	2. Chapter 2

** _2025_ **

The room looks familiar, but absent of all the personal touches your old one used to have. There are a couple boxes stacked near the dresser with your name written in permanent marker on the side. They were some of the things you had left in Tony’s garage, Happy had come across the boxes and offered to bring over for you. You’re not ready to open them yet though, so you slowly unpack the few clothes you do have, mentally making a note to add a shopping trip to your list of things to do in the upcoming weeks. Hotel living for the past two years had meant only the basics when it came to clothing.

Once you finish putting away everything you brought, you turn to look at the boxes once more, trying to muster up the courage. Your brain wants you to unpack the ugly brown cardboard eyesores, but you’re not sure what’s in them, after all, you stayed over at the Stark’s more than you did the compound after the snap. 

You make your way into the kitchen, placing your phone on the counter, as you notice the far wall has a large board with a collage of various small photos pinned to it. It’s an addition you hadn’t seen on your first walk through, so you approach it and immediately see a photo of Steve and Bucky, both in stealth suits, wide toothy grins on their faces. Beside it is a photo of Natasha, she’s wearing boxing gloves and Clint’s in the background, waiting on the sparring mat. Another photo is of Wanda and Vision standing in the kitchen, the messy counter in front of them makes it apparent they were attempting to cook something. There’s also a photo of Tony, Steve, and Thor, all three laughing heartily about something in the common area of the compound. Another photo is of the entire team before the fallout, a much happier time and everyone’s faces show it.

Two pictures catch your attention, one you recognize, because you have a copy tucked away in your journal, and one you don’t remember. The one you have is from the lab, you’re standing beside the table and Tony has one arm draped across your shoulders and he’s kissing your temple. You’re not looking at the camera – eyes closed – caught in the moment. Parker had taken that photo; you remember Tony giving you a copy of it. The other picture is of you and Peter, both of you baby faced, and he’s holding the camera out to fit both you in the frame. The background doesn’t look familiar, but he’s sitting in the floor in front of a bed that you’re lying on. Both your smiling faces are side by side, although each is a little bruised and dirty.

“Done unpacking?” A voice draws your attention away from the board and you glance over to see Peter approaching.

You nod with a smile, “Yea – hey – where’s this from?” You point to the photo in question.

He moves closer to get a better look and laughs a little, “Oh wow – yea – that was Berlin.”

The memories slowly start to come back as you glance over at the photo.

_“You’re done, take Parker back to the hotel,” the metal fingers are wrapped around your wrist tightly. “Wait for me there, understood?”_

_“Yes sir,” your response was automatic as he glared down at you._

_“You did good kid,” his eyes had softened slightly as he released his grip. “Now go – hurry.”_

_You had quickly made your way across the lot to the kid in the red and blue suit who was still lying on the ground. He managed to prop up on one elbow as you got closer and you offered him a hand, “You must be Parker.”_

_“Peter – yea – P-Parker,” he stammered a little as he took your hand and you pulled him to his feet. _

_“I’m –” you tried to say as he fidgeted with the red mask in his hands. _

_“I know,” he interrupted you quickly and raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “You’re – wow – I mean – you’re awesome.”_

_“I saw you web up Captain America. I’ve never seen anyone slow him down,” you had remarked with a smile. “That’s pretty impressive Spider-Man.”_

“That was after the fight?” You question Peter and he nods as you remember slowly. “Back at the hotel – that’s right.”

“We ordered so much room service we thought Happy was going to kill us,” he remarks. “That was so long ago.”

“Look at us – we were just kids,” you touch the photo gingerly.

“It was fun though,” Peter glances over to you, still seeing the same girl he’s had a crush on since that day in Berlin. _I’ve missed you,_ he thinks to himself. “Hanging out with you was always fun though.”

You smirk as you glance up at him, still trying to get over the size difference, “Just because I was older, and it impressed your friends.”

“No,” he begins defensively crossing his arms. “Well, yes and no. Ned did have a poster of you in his room, I think he died a little when I told him I met you.” You roll your eyes as he continues. “No, you were always the nicest to me, treating me like an equal – you know – and you were funny and really smart and the way you twirl your hair with your left hand when your working a problem out in your head – I always thought that was cute.”

You raise an eyebrow at him curiously, “How observant, but I also twirl my hair when –”

“You’re sleepy,” he finishes your sentence with a smirk. “I know.”

Those dark eyes pull you in again and you stare at him for a brief moment, trying to decipher what’s happening. Your phone rings from the counter, interrupting the moment, and Peter notices the name Happy Hogan on the screen as you reach for it. Sliding the green bar sideways you answer the video call and see the man’s face staring blankly at the screen, smiling suddenly as your face appears on his end.

“Hey,” his voice is more enthusiastic than he is when talking with Peter. “So, I’m over here, helping out this evening and someone wanted me to give you a call.” He moves his phone beside him to reveal an adorable dark-eyed little girl who is smiling brightly.

“Aunt Sess,” she squeals in excitement. “We’re having ice cream for dinner!”

“You are,” you try not to laugh at her statement. “That’s so awesome, I wish I could have ice cream for dinner.”

“Are you home now?” Morgan questions. She’s more mature than most kids her age. “With Uncle Rhodey?”

“I am,” you smile at her warmly, those dark eyes reminding you so much of her father.

“What are you having for dinner?” The little girl questions curiously, taking you by surprise.

“I’m not sure,” you glance over at Peter for a moment smirking before looking back to the little girl in your phone. “Only boys live here, so there’s probably not a lot of options.”

“Hey,” Peter sounds insulted, “there’s a few things. Sam cooks sometimes.” Morgan’s face scrunches up in confusion as she listens to him speak and you turn the screen so she can see him. He waves at the child with a grin, “Hey Morgan.”

“OH!” Her voice blasts through the speaker as the idea comes to her. “Uncle Peter can make you a grilled cheese. He’s the best cook.”

Peter quickly raises his finger to his lips, “Ssshh – that’s supposed to be our secret.”

“It’s okay, she can keep a secret,” the girl assures him with a confident nod of her head. “I got to go, my ice cream’s melting.”

You angle the phone to fit both you and Peter in the frame before you speak, “I’ll see you soon okay? Sleep tight.”

“I love you tons,” she replies with a smile before blowing you a kiss with her small hand.

“Love you,” the two of you say simultaneously, each moving your hands from your lips toward the screen.

The call ends and you lay the phone on the counter, before you glance over at Parker, “Grilled cheese huh?”

“She did say they were the best,” he comments, standing up from the bar stool.

“We’ll see,” you remark as he moves around to the refrigerator and begins gathering the ingredients.

“It’s nice though,” Peter says glancing over his shoulder, “I didn’t know you talked to Morgan – I mean – since you’ve been gone.”

“I face time with her at least once a week,” you respond, glancing down at the phone. “I left because I needed to – not because I wanted to. I didn’t want her to think I’d left and forgotten her.”

“That’s good though – you staying in her life. She’s a great kid,” he moves a skillet onto the stove.

“She had a great dad,” the words slip out before you realize it and the two of you share a moment of silence as Peter continues working at the stove.

“Question though, why does she call you Aunt Sess?” He finally asks.

“Well,” a laugh slips through at the memory, “one day, I’m sitting there and she’s – I don’t know maybe a year old – maybe more. She’s already saying dada and mama at this point. Anyway, I’m there and she’s in her playpen reaching for me saying ‘Sess, Sess’. Pepper’s like, ‘So, you’re Sess, she’s been saying that word and I don’t know where it came from.’ All we could figure out is maybe she heard Tony call me princess and that’s what stuck with her, but I’ve been Aunt Sess ever since then.”

Peter turns from the stove with a smile, “I just thought you were her imaginary friend, when she’d tell me about Aunt Sess and how one day you’d come back home, but you were off on adventures, slaying dragons and saving princesses.”

“Technically,” another voice joins them as Sam approaches from the hall, Bucky trailing along behind him, “she was an heiress and he was the leader of one of the largest drug cartels in South America – so same thing.” You move quickly from the bar stool to embrace the man. He hugs you tightly noticing Peter at the stove, finishing up on the grilled cheese he’s making. “What’s this?” Sam pulls away from you, keeping one hand on your shoulder. “You show up and suddenly Parker knows how the stove works?”

“Shut up,” Peter shoots back at him, watching as you smack Wilson against the chest before moving over to greet Barnes.

Sam walks towards the stove while Peter moves to the sink with the now empty skillet, subtly watching you with soldier. There’s a small embrace, his metal hand lingers at your waist as the usual pleasantries are exchanged, then Barnes questions, “Was that the cartel in Bogota?”

“Yea – you were there,” you respond.

“With that shitty motel.” Bucky continues, glancing over at Sam. “Someone said it was the only one available.”

“It was,” Wilson defends himself as he tears one of the grilled cheese sandwiches in half and takes a bite from it.

Peter turns his attention back to the skillet, turning the water on and grabbing the scrub brush. He hadn’t thought about anyone helping you over the past two years, especially not Barnes. The idea of the two of you working together – alone – sharing a motel room. Maybe that’s why he looks comfortable with his hands on you, because they’ve touched you before. A wave a jealousy washes over him as visions of you and Barnes flash through his mind. A loud snapping sound brings Peter back to the present and he quickly turns off the water, looking down at the broken skillet in the sink – snapped in half.

“What the –” Sam steps over to look at the source of the sound.

“Oops,” Peter says bashfully.

The man shakes his head at him, “Really? This is why we can’t have nice things Parker.”

You walk across to the plate Peter had prepared and grab the half Sam left on top and take a bite for yourself, as the man throws the broken pieces in the garbage. You grab another half and offer it to Barnes as he walks over and accepts it, before you take another one for yourself to carry back to your room. Walking towards the hall, you reach up to pat Peter on the chest, “It is really good.” You hold up the grilled cheese. “Thanks for dinner Parker.”

His smile is a mix of awkward and warm as he watches you head down the hall toward your room, “You’re welcome.”

Wilson waits a few moments before he leans back against the counter, eyeing the man suspiciously, “Damn, man.”

“What?” Peter questions him.

Sam glances across to Bucky, “He’s got it bad.”

“Worse than we thought,” Barnes replies with a nod.

“Wha – no,” he stammers, placing his hands on his hips. “It’s not what you think.”

“Dude, you cooked,” Sam looks at him in disbelief.

“The only other person you’ve ever cooked for has you wrapped around her finger,” Bucky chimes in, “and she’s like seven.”

“She just got back,” Peter tries to defend himself. “I was being nice.”

“Uh huh,” Wilson looks skeptical. “Is that why your shirt looks two sizes too small?”

Parker flicks his left wrist at the man, the watch he’s wearing quickly shooting a web across the kitchen, catching Sam’s hand as he reaches for another piece of grilled cheese and plasters it to the countertop beside the plate.

"Hey!” Sam protests, trying to pull his hand free from the adhesive. “No webbing in the kitchen.”

“Jokes on you,” Peter gives him an unimpressed look. “This is your shirt.”

He turns and walks away as Bucky snorts, trying not to laugh, causing Sam to glare at him, “Real funny, now help me get this shit off.”

** _2017_ **

“You two can stand there all day,” Tony remarks loudly without turning away from the table, “or you can _actually _come in and learn something.”

The two of you move quickly from the doorway and across to the table, each on opposite sides of the man. Peter looks a bit frazzled, “Sorry Mr. Stark, I just –”

“Don’t apologize,” the man cuts him short.

“You know I never interrupt your genius in action,” you say smoothly.

A wide smile spreads across Stark’s face and he glances from you back over to Peter, “That’s why _she’s _my favorite – take notes.”

Peter looks across the table at you, slightly annoyed, and a little envious of just how easy you make it look. You’re only a handful of years older than him, but he imagines you’ve always had this rebel attitude – too cool for school – never awkward.

It’s obvious you’re the class favorite and not just with Stark. During the fight in Germany, Peter can remember seeing Wanda fling a car at Rhodey, but he dodged it quickly, leaving an unsuspecting you in the path of it as you were chasing after Barnes. Steve Rogers had managed to tackle you out of the way before the car crashed into the pavement, metal and glass exploding around the two of you.

_“You good?” He had questioned, as you both stood back up. _

_“Yea.” Peter can remember you had looked a little shaken and embarrassed._

_“I didn’t want this – I’m sorry,” Steve informed you sincerely before he turned to rejoin the fight. _

Captain America had given you respect that day and Peter a black eye. He knows normally anyone else would be jealous of that, and maybe it’s because he’s geeky and awkward, but it makes him like you more.

Peter would never admit to anyone else, but he loves spending his spare time at the compound hanging around the lab with Tony because – well duh, he’s Tony freaking Stark – but you’re always there too. You’re the only person who doesn’t treat him like the awkward teenager he truly is. Always asking his thoughts or opinions on things, never talking down to or chastising him in anyway.

“Hey,” Tony looks over to you, “will you go up to Rhodey’s office and get him, I need his thoughts on a few things?”

You give him a quick nod, “Sure thing boss.”

Peter watches you leave lab; not sure what Stark has said in the last ten minutes because his mind has been elsewhere. He turns to see the man move over to his computer and begin typing away in a program.

“If you’re going to spend time in my lab,” Tony says, not looking at Peter, “I’m going to need your full attention.”

“Yes sir.”

“That means stop looking at her like a lovesick puppy or I’ll have to split your time in the lab,” his tone is abrasive.

“I’m – I don’t – I’m not,” Peter stumbles over the words as he folds his arms across his chest defensively.

“She’s too old for you,” Stark spins around on the stool he’s sitting on to face Parker.

“I know,” the boy responds.

“The age thing won’t matter in a few years,” he cocks an eyebrow at his protégé, “she’s out of your league though.”

Peter clenches his jaw, furrowing his brows in confusion at Stark’s words, “I – I know that.”

“Good,” he glares at the boy for a moment. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Stark spins the stool back to face the computer and Peter takes a deep breath, “Yes sir.”

“Always go for the ones who are out of your league kid,” Tony comments nonchalantly, fingers flying away on the keyboard. “Remember – they’re the ones worth chasing.”


	3. Chapter 3

**2025**

The warmth from the coffee mug in your hand is a soothing comfort as you make your way down to the lab, the music coming from there drawing your attention. You smile as you see Peter working away in the same place you left him last night, his Zeppelin playlist still going strong. You had simply asked him about a suit, after all, yours had seen some wear and tear over the last two years. That hadn’t meant staying up all night working on it. Stopping in the doorway, the nostalgia takes over as you stare at the man before you.

** _2017_ **

_You walked into the lab and spotted the boy with his arms folded under his head on the table, a science book and notes open and scattered around him. You gently nudged his shoulder and he jolted awake, hair mussed, and eyes squinted as he focused on you._

_“Hi,” you said quietly as you offered him your coffee. _

_“Sorry,” he looked embarrassed as he took the mug from you, sipping the caffeine. “I have a mid-term on Monday.” _

_“I don’t miss those days,” you remarked as you glanced through his notes. “Want me to help you study?”_

_“Oh – you don’t have to,” he shook his head. _

_“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you pulled up a chair. “I don’t have to train with Natasha for another hour. I’m all yours.”_

_You had mourned Peter after the snap, well everyone really, but you and he were friends. Then he came back, five years later – five years older than when he left – he came back, but you lost Tony and Natasha that day and there was no time for celebrating everyone’s return, not even Peter Parker. _

**2025**

You approach the table as he glances over at you, reaching up to scratch the back of his head shyly, “Oh – hi.”

“Looks like you didn’t sleep,” you offer him the mug, after all, he probably needs it more than you, and he graciously accepts it.

“Yea, I got sidetracked,” he replies, before sipping the coffee slowly, savoring the caramel flavor you've added. “That's good.” His face lights up with excitement as he places the mug on the table, “I came up with something new.”

“I didn’t want something new,” you shake your head. “The same design was fine Parker.”

The suit was Tony’s idea, a deep violet color with black accents. Peter knows what the concept means to you, that’s why he didn’t change Stark’s original plan, only the color scheme.

“I thought it might be time for a change,” Peter begins, working with device in his hand. “Someone should carry on the legacy – it can’t be me.”

“Parker, no,” you shake your head vehemently, not liking the idea of what he’s talking about. “I’m nothing like he was – I – I can’t.”

He smiles at you warmly as he flicks the device in his hand, causing a case on the wall closest to you to slowly open, revealing the suit he's been working on all night. Your hand covers your mouth as you look at it in surprise.

“You admired him – yea – but that’s not who _really_ trained you,” Parker says. Tears well up in your eyes as you stare at the solid back suit that resembles Natasha’s. Her customary red accents now a deep violet color as are the Widow’s Bite bracelets which adorn both wrists. “I suggested it to Rhodey first, and he agrees, so do the rest of the guys.” He follows with you as you approach the suit, reaching out to run your fingers along the Kevlar material.

You clear your throat as you try to wipe the tears from your eyes without him noticing, “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Peter nudges you with his shoulder. “You’re her legacy.”

“Thank you.”

It’s the first time he's seen you look genuinely happy since you've returned, and he can't help the smile that crosses his face as you glance up at him. He feels a rush of endorphins as sees the glint of admiration in your eyes for him and that look alone would be worth a week of sleepless nights spent in the lab.

“I love it Parker,” you add before moving closer to inspect the utility belt and thigh holster.

***

It was supposed to be a simple run, take down a biker gang who were running guns across the border.

Nothing is ever simple in your world though.

You use the Widow’s Bite bracelets to electrocute the man who has you from behind. Parker is busy disarming a few of the other men and webbing them up when you see one of them break free from his webbing as if it’s nothing and your eyes widen in shock. He jerks two of the henchmen free from their webbing as well and they grab weapons.

“Enhanced,” is the only word you can get out before the man launches a table across the room at you, knocking you to the ground. Peter turns quickly, sensing the oncoming assault and ducks, grabbing the man’s fist as he swings, engaging in one on one combat with one of the assailants while the enhanced individual stalks towards you.

Gathering yourself from the floor, you shoot a taser from your wrist into the man, but it does nothing against him as he continues towards you. Using your boot, you kick one of the already broken legs off the table, severing it and you grab for it clumsily.

The simple mission has just turned into a fight for survival as Parker dodges bullets, his webbing depleted, and you face down an enhanced individual. Ninety-five percent of the time missions are successful with no casualties – no blood spilled – unfortunately this is that five percent.

***

You glance from the blood on your hands to the bodies on the floor, Parker moves slowly towards you, limping visibly from the bullet you saw graze his calf.

“Are you okay?” He pulls the red mask from his head, his dark eyes full of concern and his hair a chaotic mess.

“Yea,” you reply as he glances at the blood on you, “it’s not my blood.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Peter states.

Back on the quinjet, you scrub your hands clean as Parker places the controls on autopilot. He watches as you dry your hands angrily. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s had to kill someone, nor will it be the last. He doesn’t like it, but sometimes, it’s necessary in this line of work.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He questions you again quietly.

“I’m sorry,” you reply. “I’ll talk with Wilson about this. The intel should have been better. They had an enhanced individual and we should have known that. We shouldn’t have been put in that position, I’m sorry you had to – you had to do that.”

“Hey,” Peter tries to calm you. “It’s okay. It happens.”

“No,” your voice is louder, “it’s not okay. You’re just a –” You catch yourself and stop.

“Just a what?” He raises an eyebrow. “A kid?”

“That’s not what I meant,” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“Is that what you see when you look at me?” He questions and you shake your head quickly as he folds his arms across his chest. “Then what do you see?”

“I see,” you begin, noticing how much he fills out the red and black suit. “you, Parker – like always.” He’s staring at you intensely. “Why? What do you see – with me?”

His dark eyes never waver, adrenaline from earlier still coursing through his veins, “I see the girl I’ve had a crush on since Berlin.” You tilt your head curiously, waiting for him to say he’s joking, but he begins to walk towards you. “Is that really what you see when you look at me?” He asks, hearing as your heart rate increases with each step he takes. “That awkward sixteen-year-old kid?” You move backwards as he advances until your legs bump the table. He’s far from the teenager you knew back then and even if your mind is having a hard time registering that, your body is screaming it.

You tense up as he moves closer to you, the table preventing you from getting away, “We were kids Parker. I was supposed to watch out for you.”

“We’re not kids anymore.” His eyes are full of sadness as he reaches up and brushes your hair behind your ear gently. “We watch out for each other now.”

His touch sends a shiver down your spine and your throat goes dry as he takes a step back, turning away from you. The words he said replaying through your mind, he’s had a crush on you since Berlin. Your hand flies to his arm instinctively to stop him, “All this time?” You question as he turns back to you slowly. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“You needed time to heal – we both did,” he responds. “I was waiting for you to come home.”

The muscles in his arm ripple underneath your touch as his hand moves to your waist, your voice doesn’t feel like your own as you say softly, “I’ve been home – what are you waiting for – Peter?”

His lips crash against yours – hot and hard – urgent as he drags you closer to him. There’s not an inch of space between you as your fingers tangle in his hair, heat flaring from every pulse point.

“Peter,” E.D.I.T.H.’s voice comes across the loudspeaker in the quinjet causing the two of you to pull apart slowly.

“Yes E.D.I.T.H.,” Peter acknowledges the AI.

“Mr. Stark’s protocol for this situation requires me give you a message,” the voice begins, the tone changing to a more serious one. “Took you long enough kid.”

You close your eyes, burying your face into Peter’s shoulder as you try not to laugh. Peter, however, does laugh a little as he pinches the bridge of his nose before saying, “E.D.I.T.H. initiate privacy mode please.”

“Yes, Peter.”


End file.
